Time
by repmetsyrrah
Summary: S/T AU. What if a clock could count down to the moment you meet your soul mate?


**A/N: **This is based on a Tumblr post that asked people to imagine what it would be like if you had a clock that counted down to the moment you met your soulmate. I think it was based on a movie however I haven't seen it so the details might differ from that. I only took the concept of a clock that counted down to meeting one's soulmate and put it in Downton Abbey.

Enjoy.

Thanks to babageneush for the beta.

**Time**

* * *

She's late.

She's supposed to be at the village by now, her mother's probably in a panic.

It was her plan. It was always the plan.

When her timer went off they would all be in the village.

And so would he.

Hopefully.

There were more people in the village. More likely to meet a suitable man there. Maybe the second son of a viscount passing through?

What would happen she wonders, if she isn't where she was supposed to be?

If two people missed one another by moments?

She's never heard of it happening but, as she rushes to retrieve the shawl she had forgotten, she supposes there's a first time for everything.

Or, she supposes, the more likely thing would be for her to be wherever she's meant to and everything that conspired to get her there, deliberate or not, is meant to be.

Plans were silly in the end, even if everyone had them. If the timers really do work as everyone says then it won't matter if she makes it to the village. He will be wherever she is.

If he's not in the village she can't be either.

Like almost everyone her timer had been installed on her eleventh birthday. With a great deal of fanfare she had been the first to look at it, the first to find out exactly how long it would be until she met her soulmate.

She still remembers so many questions. But no one really did know how the timers worked, only that they did.

That the bit of metal in her wrist would start to count as soon as it was installed. And that as soon as it hit zero she would lay eyes on her soulmate.

The one person in the world perfectly suited to her.

It had worked for her parents.

She had read out the days, hours and weeks and had still been converting them when her mother had almost cried.

"Six years!"

"It doesn't mean she's getting married in six years," her father had been quick to assure her, "only that she'll meet the man."

Sybil had been excited at the time. Six years was very short. The usual was eight or nine. Most of the upper class met during the Season.

Some of them used it as proof of their superiority. That they clearly weren't meant to taint their class with common blood.

Sybil thought the rather obvious explanation was that if you were raised to only think that anyone else was beneath you then you couldn't possibly accept anyone else. So of course like-minded people would take to like-minded people.

Sybil isn't sure she trusts her timer. It seems absurd. The very idea. To take away someone choice so completely. It had angered her at times but lately, she had become resigned.

If it was needed, she would fight after it had gone off.

The timer would make a suggestion. Her father had been right six years ago. She didn't have to marry anyone she didn't want to.

And if the timer suggests a man who would force her into that she'll truly know they're wrong.

She hopes to like him. It would make things easier.

Because she knows her family will take it as a given. That whoever she lays eyes one today, as the chime goes, will be her husband.

She knows some matches are quite perfect though.

Matthew and Mary for one. Mary had been less than pleased at first but it hadn't taken long at all for her to see the benefits of marrying her father's heir.

She would sooner die than admit what was clear to everyone else, that the timer had been right and they were quite conveniently in love as well.

Sybil hurries downstairs, chancing a look.

_0000d 00h 03m 06s_

She's misjudged it.

Her heart jumps and her chest tightens so much she's forced to stop and hold the rail.

She thought she had more time.

She won't make it anywhere except the car and Taylor is not only a terrible match but already has a wife.

He's here then.

Her soulmate is already at Downton.

She places a hand on her heart and forces herself to breathe.

She just has to wait.

Two minutes.

Suddenly, she's rather nervous.

* * *

Tom tries not to look at his but even the quick glances have given him a good idea of when the blasted thing will go off.

Today.

Today he will meet the person he is to spend his life with.

Or he'll meet his soulmate.

He doesn't believe the timers are absolute.

He believes in choices. Maybe they'll choose to ignore fate. Maybe they won't marry and simply go their separate ways.

He wouldn't suit someone who blindly followed their timer at any rate. If she instantly falls at his feet and announces their marriage he'll finally know the timers aren't infallible.

He wonders if she'll be English.

It's likely though servants come from all over so he supposes he may soon be coming face to face with a lovely Irish lass and not break his family's hearts.

There's a knock at his door and he checks impulsively.

_0000d 00h 18m 12s_

Not them then.

But soon.

"Lord Grantham has requested your presence in the library,' the butler, Mr. Carson tells him when he opens the door.

The Earl at least is already married.

He wonders how on Earth he'll concentrate with the knowledge he'll see her as soon as the meeting's completed.

He take a deep breath and nods, following the butler out of his cottage.

An odd sense of calm settles over him.

* * *

The meeting passes without a hitch. He briefly considered mentioning his timer but it would have been somewhat inappropriate.

He couldn't even look at it without being terribly rude so as he leaves he has no idea how many ticks of the clock are left.

He steps out of the library and almost trips over a young woman he recognises as the youngest daughter of the house.

The apology is on his lips before he is interrupted as two identical chimes go off.

Two sets of eyes glance downwards to two identical timers.

_0000d 00h 00m 00s_

And back up, to lock with each other.

There's a stunned silence in the hall.

Lord Grantham comes out and looks between his daughter, the Lady, and his new chauffeur and their matching timers as if someone had told him the world was about to end.

Mr. Carson looks as if the world _has_ ended and a woman he assumes to be Lady Grantham merely looks in disbelief.

Tom is the first to react.

He offers her a smile.

She returns it.

He shakes his head, and sighs.

"My family is going to hate this," he tells her.

She bursts into laughter and Tom knows the damn thing was right after all.


End file.
